


Notice

by potstickersss



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Anxious Leah, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Protective Fatin Jadmani, they are soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28620261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potstickersss/pseuds/potstickersss
Summary: Leah can't sleep and Fatin wakes and keeps her company. Feelings ensue.
Relationships: Fatin Jadmani/Leah Rilke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 174





	Notice

**Author's Note:**

> I'll go down with this ship. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

Watching the moonlight crest the waves is my favourite thing to do when I can't sleep. The sound of the water crashing on the shore and the quiet symphony of crickets in the bush and trees calms me.

I've done this more times than I care to count, sitting curled up in one of Fatin's sweaters, my knees to my chest and fingers digging into the soft sand as I try to clear my mind. The stress and paranoia are unrelenting, but in the dead of night, when all the girls are sleeping, it fades, and I can enjoy the silence for a while.

Scuffing of sand behind me has my head popping up from where I had my cheek resting on my knees, and when I look over my shoulder, I find Fatin making her way towards me, concern written across her face.

"Hey, you okay?" She whispers as she settles in next to me, and I shrug, looking back out to the ocean, my fingers tracing random patterns on the sand even faster now.

"Just can't sleep," I murmur, and she scoots closer until her shoulder is pressed against mine, and when I glance over, she is watching my hands. When she pulls her gaze away from them, she searches my face, immediately settling on my left eyebrow.

"Anxious," She whispers more so to herself than me and reaches up to brush her thumb over raised skin, and I flush in embarrassment. I forgot I had been picking at the skin above my brow relentlessly earlier before forcing my hands to use the sand as a distraction instead.

"I'm fine, Fatin. It's nothing," I say with a breathless chuckle, and she sighs, letting her hand drop to her lap, but her eyes never leave mine.

"You are not okay, Leah. And it's okay to admit it. None of us are fine." Her eyes are sincere and dark in the moonlight, and I find my breath catching in my throat when her fingers find mine, linking them together.

"Maybe, but none of you have a full-blown psychotic meltdown every day because of irrational paranoia. You guys can sleep, joke around, and relax without constantly being riddled with distrust and fear. I am losing my mind, Fatin, and I am well aware that I am not fine. I do not deny that. But there is nothing that will fix it until we are of this fucking island. There is a difference between not being fine and going crazy. And I am definitely the latter," I whisper harshly, and it's not until Fatin is tugging our linked hands down that I realize I had been attempting to pick at my eyebrow again.

"You are not going crazy," Fatin murmurs, rubbing her thumb over the back of my hand in a soothing circle, and I suck in a deep breath in an attempt to keep myself from crying. "You are suffering from a traumatic experience, and this is you coping with the little resources you have. There is nothing insane about you."

"No, Fatin. There is something wrong in here," I say, tapping at my temple with my right hand roughly as tears fill my eyes, and Fatin swallows roughly when I meet her gaze. "I can't think straight. I don't know what is real or not. I can't trust my own mind. Do you know what that's like? I can't trust myself to make rational decisions, let alone trust my own fucking eyes. Fatin, that is not right. That is me losing my fucking mind. I am going insane, and nothing you say will make me think different." A sob escapes me, and I immediately squeeze my eyes shut.

I drop Fatin's hand to press the heels of my palms into my eyes, not wanting to lose my composure completely, but Fatin places her hand on my back and begins rubbing between my shoulder blades and the dam in my chest breaks.

My body is wracked with uncontrollable sobbing, and I can't breathe. I clutch at my chest, curling into myself, and I feel like this is my worst moment. I have finally cracked, and nothing can glue me back together. The movement behind me has my body flinching in surprise, but as soon as I see the two tan legs bracket my own and feel the warm body against my back, I relax. Fatin wraps her arms tight around me from behind, and I clutch at her forearms desperately as hiccuping sobs shudder through me.

She tucks her chin into the crook of my shoulder and rocks us side to side, slowly allowing me to cry until I can't anymore. It feels like hours before my tears dry, leaving me with a raging headache and my eyes sore and swollen as snot drips down my lips.

I feel empty, and with a trembling hand, I wipe at my mouth and under my nose, removing spit and snot, wiping my hand in the sand. Exhaustion sweeps through me at once, and I sag back into Fatin's chest, too tired to be embarrassed by my outburst or the desperate need for her comfort.

Fatin tilts my face towards hers with gentle fingers, and when I peer up, I am sucked into her soft gaze. "Feel better?" She murmurs, her breath brushing my cheek as her thumb strokes my jaw, and I nod slowly.

"As better as I can be, I guess," I rasp, and the corners of her mouth tighten.

"We will get off this island, Leah. We will. You gotta hold on for a little while longer, okay? And I know you are struggling, but I'm here. Whenever you need a distraction or a hug. I'm right here."

I study her face for a minute, my brows knitting together, and Fatin waits patiently for me to reply.

"Why?" I finally ask, and Fatin frowns.

"Why what?"

I swallow roughly and twist a little, so I am not leaning so heavily on her, putting some space between our faces. "Why would you do that?"

Fatin chuckles, seeming bewildered by the question, and she tilts her head curiously. "Because you're my friend? Is it a crime to care about you?"

I sigh and shake my head. "No, of course not. That's not- that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" Fatin asks, the lines of her face tight with apprehension, and I clench my jaw for a few seconds before I look away, licking my lips as I decide not to bring up the signs I have noticed for weeks. The signs that maybe, just maybe Fatin's attention and kindness are backed by more than friendly courtesy.

"Nothing. Thank you for the offer. I will keep that in mind," I murmur, and Fatin stares at the side of my face as I go back to staring out at the ocean, my hands slipping from her arms that are still crossed over my stomach and let my fingers sink back into the sand creating random patterns once more.

"Leah?" Fatin asks softly, nudging my knee with hers as she cranes her head further over my shoulder in an attempt to catch my gaze but stubbornly keep my eyes on the waves.

"Hm?" I hum in reply, knowing I'm acting childish by avoiding her eyes, but I don't want her to see the disappointment in them. Because I know she would notice. She is the only one who actually sees me and can read me like an open book, and that's just it isn't it?

That is the part that has me believing she feels differently about me. Not like the other girls. They are my friends, and Fatin is, too, but none of the others would know to look for red and raw skin above my eye for a sign indicating I am feeling anxious. The others wouldn't link my fingers with theirs and sit with me in the middle of the night when they notice I am awake, knowing that I can't sleep. The others wouldn't hold me as I sobbed so hard my stomach hurt, and snot dripped down my face. No, only Fatin would. Only Fatin has. She knows when I am not in the mood to play games or haven't eaten enough.

She is the only one who has actively tried to get to know me, who has asked about Jeff and who didn't judge. She's the one I look to when I feel uncomfortable and who I want to divulge all my secrets to. All my fears. And against my better judgement, I hope that she desires more than friendship because maybe that will justify the knot I get in my chest when I look at her or when my stomach flutters with the way she says my name. Her touch is electrifying and so gentle, and I crave it. Maybe if she feels the same as I do, I won't be left with yet another thing I can't tell is real or not. I just want one thing to be real. I want the signs I notice not to be my imagination and for Fatin to want me.

Which sounds pathetic as I think about it more. We are stranded on an island, and I am worried about my crush like me back. It's so trivial, and yet at the same time, it feels like the biggest problem I have. Not as if food and fresh water should be my main priority.

"Lee," Fatin whispers, and my chest tightens when I hear that nickname.

I haven't heard it since I was young, and my dad would still chase me around the yard. I guess I outgrew it because he stopped calling me that and spending time with mom or me.

I finally pull my gaze away from the water to face Fatin, and the crease between her brows is deep, making me want to smooth it with my thumb, but I don't. I force my hands to still in the sand as I wait for her to continue.

"What did you mean?" Fatin asks, serious and, to my surprise, a little nervous. I chew on my bottom lip and let my eyes fall to her collarbones as I try to figure out what to say. Should I admit my feelings? Or comment on the past few weeks? Or do I lie and come up with an excuse and try to sleep?

With a swooping stomach, I flick my gaze up and straighten my back as I turn to face her completely, swinging my legs over hers so we are still sharing the same space and Fatin's hands fall to my thighs, her breath catching in her throat.

I clear my throat, trying to ignore the heat radiating from her palms and how high up they are placed, and meet her eyes, determined to say my truth.

"I asked you why you would do that because I needed to understand your motive. I wanted to know if you were doing all these things because you feel obligated as a friend or because of deeper feelings," I say clearly, bluntly, and Fatin's eyes widen in shock.

I steel myself for her answer and watch as her throat bobs with a hard swallow, her fingers tightening on my thighs. She inhales slowly, and I begin to naw on my lip once more, not taking my eyes off hers.

"What um, what made you think it would be something more?" Fatin asks finally, and I raise my brows.

"You want a list?" I ask, and Fatin swallows hard again before nodding.

"Yeah, why not."

I chuckle in disbelief before I take a deep breath rolling my eyes. "Fine. Well, for starters, personal space," I say, motioning between her and me, and she glances down at her hands then back up to my face. "We used to maintain our distance, and we were friends after that whole fight and apology happened. But a few weeks ago, something shifted. You started sitting closer and often would take my hand."

Fatin's jaw ticks, but she doesn't interrupt, allowing me to continue. "Number two; would be you seem to make it your job to feed me. No one else notices my lack of appetite but you. Number three; the eyebrow thing. You always stop me from doing it, and again you are the only one who notices or at least cares to stop it."

I pause to gauge her reaction, and she licks at her lips, her eyes avoiding mine, and I nearly smile. A speechless and nervous Fatin is not one I had seen yet.

"Number four would be you always finding me awake at night and sitting with me. Number five is you holding me as I have a meltdown. That is a new development. As well as the face touching. So yeah, Fatin, there are a few things I've noticed that would have me thinking there might be something more," I finish, poking her shoulder, and she peers up at me through her thick lashes, and my stomach somersaults in response.

"And here I thought I was subtle," She grumbles, and a snort escapes me before I can stop it.

Fatin grins brightly, and I roll my eyes, reaching out to play with the collar of her shirt. "You may as well have written 'crushing hard on Leah Rilke' across your forehead," I say, and she gasps.

"How big do you think my forehead is?" She asks, affronted, covering her forehead with her hand, and I chuckle, tugging her hand back down, interlocking our fingers.

"It's a very nice and average-sized forehead. Maybe a t-shirt will work better," I tell her, and she nods seriously.

"T-shirt is much better, thank you."

We sit there grinning at each other for a minute before Fatin's smile slowly drops and is replaced by a wary look.

"So, is it okay? That I like you?" She asks quietly, uncertain, and it tugs at my heart. She looks so vulnerable and small, and I tighten my grip on her hand.

"Of course, it is. I was actually hoping everything I noticed wasn't just me making shit up. So it's nice to know one thing is real," I whisper, and Fatin tilts her head, sweeping her gaze across my face.

"Are you saying what I think you are saying?" She asks, reluctant hope filling her eyes, and I send her a teasing smile, shrugging.

"I don't know Fatin, what is it you think I'm saying?"

She bites her lip, eyes sparkling with genuine happiness, and she reaches out to cup my cheek. She leans in slowly, a silent question in her eyes as she stops just a breath away from my lips, and I fist the front of her shirt in anticipation.

I lick my lips and watch as Fatin's eyes fall to them, and as our breath mingles together, neither of us moving, I close the gap.

When my lips meet hers in the softest of kisses, I immediately know this is nothing like what I had with Jeffery. Just the bare brush of Fatin's lips has my heart galloping in my chest and fingers aching to trace every feature and curve.

With a quiet exhale of breath, I tug Fatin in closer by the shirt, and then our lips are meeting in a firm but gentle kiss and Fatin groans, her hands sliding up my thighs to rest on my hips, and I wrap my free arm around her shoulders holding her tight against me.

Fatin parts her lips and crushes them harder against mine, pulling a moan from me and her fingers dig into my hips. The kisses become rough and messy, teeth nipping at lips and tongues battling for dominance until I'm left breathless and have to pull back.

Fatin presses her forehead to mine and releases a breathless laugh. "Shit Rilke, that was hella hot. I guessed you'd be a good kisser but damn."

I giggle and nudge her nose with mine, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before speaking. "I aim to please. And you been thinking about my lips often, Jadmani?"

"Oh, constantly. Among other x-rated things," Fatin teases, and I smirk, trailing a finger down her throat, delighting in the shiver I get in response and the goosebumps that rise.

"Is that so? Maybe one of these days you can tell me about these x-rated things. And maybe I can make them a reality for you. I'm sure the real thing is better than what you have fantasized about."

"Leah Rilke, you dirty bitch. Who knew you had it in you?" Fatin gasps, tugging my hips into hers and I laugh quietly, leaning down to connect our lips again.

"You have a lot to learn, Fatin Jadmani. I'm secretly a sex fiend."

"I'm starting to realize that. It's always the quiet ones," Fatin whispers with a wicked grin, and I roll my eyes but can't contain the grin that spreads across my face.

"Just shut up and kiss me," I order, and Fatin smirks.

"Yes, ma'am."

Fatin leans in, and I meet her halfway. When her lips meet mine, it's like every single bad thing I have felt over the duration of our time on this island evaporates. All I can think about is Fatin and the warmth she exudes, the safety her presence brings, and how her lips feel against my own.

Her touch is burned into my skin, and I know when we are rescued and forced back into our old lives, this thing between us might end. I will probably fall apart again, but for now, I'm going to enjoy this for as long as it lasts, and I am going to let go and dive headfirst into my feelings for Fatin.

No matter how bad it might end for me.


End file.
